I know I talk a lot about my puppers, so when I saw this image on Twitter today, I had to grab it and share it. Because the caption on it perfectly encapsulates how I feel about all three of mine. And felt about all three of our first generation of huskies. They are all, somehow, Masters of the Now, and therefore keep me present. Especially when the youngest comes in to my office, predictably at about 10:30pm, to remind me to take a short break to make their night-time treat–honey water. Or when the boy hops up on our bed at night in a gentle request for cuddles before we all go to sleep. Or any one of the million actions they undertake over the course of the day that brings a smile to my face or a general melty feeling to my heart.

So yesterday, when Tashie started limping again after she was out in the back yard playing with the other two, my heart broke a little once more. She is eight as of last month, and while breed average longevity is 12-15, I worry on her behalf. She’s struggled with knee and back complaints of one kind or another for the past 3 years already. It was in some ways thrilling in the past year when she got back to her PULLING while on leash, because it indicated power, stamina, and conditioning had returned to some level based on all the various therapies with which we’ve plied her. I’m glad to see today that she’s not as gimpy, that she’s happy with her life.

It’s yet another reminder to count the smallest of my blessings on a regular basis.

Especially now that I’m picking back up with the nightly writing habit. Even if it’s a lot slower going than it had been. I added 1,308 words this week. It’s hard not to berate myself, since that’s less than what I used to manage in one night. And at this rate… it’ll be another 34 weeks before I finish the first draft of this book.

This week is unlikely to be much better, as we have family coming in for a visit from Wednesday through Saturday.

On the other hand, I’ve been doing great with walking. My Fitbit says I averaged 5,709 steps per day and 7 hours and 48 minutes of sleep per night.

And hubs and I watched the first episode of the latest season of Dr. Who for our stay-at-home date night. Jodie Whittacker brought back the emotional and comedic range I loved from Tennant’s run at the titular character, and hit her performance out of the park. We both loved it. Though it was much more emotional than I’d expected.

In other reading news, I saw reporting on the largest-ever sleep study, which claims that too much sleep has as much of a cognitive hit as too little sleep. Sleep studies are a thing for me, as my parents participated in one to be able to pay for the cost of my birth. Also, because when I sleep, I dream, and that is one of my most reliable sources of writing inspiration. So this result hit me sideways. Until I considered how logey I feel when I wake up from a long nap. On the other hand, if I’m sleeping longer to catch up on sleep lost from short nights… I don’t see that effect. So maybe it’s a general average of overage or underage that leads to the fuzzy brain symptoms these scientists discovered. The scientists in question certainly didn’t offer any great insights on that account.

Other science news included the somewhat disturbing revelation that enough people in the US have posted their DNA sequence to genealogy sites that computer scientists were able to back-trace to a specific individual who was not publicly posted–and speculate that they would be able to do the same for about 50% of all Americans. The privacy implications here are enormous and could easily be pushed down very disturbing paths.

The final bit of science news was an accounting of the history of turbulence from a math and physics perspective. Those fields still haven’t come up with anything much better than observations and statistical derivations to predict movement beyond simple laminar flow. What I found most enticing about the article, though, was the conclusion:

But from another point of view, the fact that such a commonplace phenomenon as the flow of water through a pipe is still in many ways an unsolved problem means that we are unlikely to ever reach a point that all physicists will agree is the end of their discipline. There remains enough mystery in the everyday world around us to keep physicists busy far into the future.

That final sentence aligns so closely with my dearest beliefs about the world at large, that it tickles me every time I see someone else reach the same conclusion.